The Death Camp
by Konner Wilson
Summary: Cartman creates a death camp for Jews and it's up to Kenny to save Kyle and the other Jews in South Park. ONESHOT


**Name: **The Death Camp  
**Author:** BoneBanditKonner  
**Rating: **T-M  
**Contains: **Strong language and mature themes (character death, religious hatred etc.)  
**A/N: **WOW. This is an interesting story I found in one of my notebooks. I found a little stub in one of my books that said "Kenny goes to a death camp" and I just wrote the story from that. I hope you like it!

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"I looked down.

_"It's the only way_, I thought. Well, that's what I think I thought. I can't remember much else during that time. I do remember that Cartman had set up a Jewish death camp with some other people. They KNEW they were killing Jews and they... well... I'll just tell you the story:

"I was walking home from school and Cartman said he had a club that could make a lot of money, I accepted, being poor and all, and also I was 13! A few bucks was major cash! But he said the club could make some money and cleanse people. So I bought into it, thinking it was about getting a shower.

"He took me to his back yard and it showed that he had put up tree houses, little sheds and a few other things, that I can't remember. He said we needed to round people up, so I did, then it all happened so fast, Kyle was being tortured, Cartman was acting like Hitler. It was so scary... I... I..."

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"Calm down, Kenny. It's the past, Eric is in jail and is being tried for all this. So just calm down, it's all over." the doctor, he was my counselor. Or shrink, as most people would call it. Well, how I got here is a major problem. I'll tell you guys the entire story, that fucking freak doesn't know what he's talking about. He's supposed to help me through... what happened... Here it goes:

"Kenny! I got an idea!" Cartman said to me, running towards me. I thought he was going to have another, "here's how we're going to make a billion dollars" scam, but no. "I want you to join my club that could make you have a little bit of cash." he said.

_OK, so this isn't the "billion dollar scam" _I thought. "OK, what's your idea?" I asked him, suspiciously. I had always been wary of Cartman. I had always been with Kyle on how to scare him. I even tricked him into thinking I was a new student by taking off my parka and saying my name was Christopher. I had always been a little fond of Kyle... I mean, in like a brotherly way.

"I want the cleansing to begin in our cult, I mean club." said Cartman. I never really thought about that mistake. Cartman always had grammar issues. So I shrugged it off and we walked to his backyard. "What's this club about, Cartman?" I asked him. Always be wary of Cartman. Always.

"More of an organization than a club." He said, looking forward, almost straining not to meet my eyes. I had now always had my hood off, it got more ladies, after we played that prank on Cartman. Kyle said it looked cool...

"What's the club called?" I asked. I wanted to know everything before I jumped into something. It was just something I did and I would go over every option in my head in a millisecond. So in one second, I could have every outcome and everything that could happen. I just did it naturally and I loved it. And other people loved it too. They thought I was psychic or something like that.

"The United Association for Methamphetamine Junkies. I got some adults in it, and a therapist to help with the junkies. I made a camp in the backyard, so the junkies can relax and have a little fun, all the while kicking their bad habit." Cartman said, STILL not looking at me. Don't think I love being the center of attention or that I'm gay or anything, but it's weird that he hasn't looked at me since we started walking. Something is up... and Cartman is up to it.

I mean, Cartman had kind of turned nice. I mean, he hadn't tried to put Kyle in a wood chipper. He hadn't tried to kill any of the people in South Park. He helped out Officer Barbardy after school, started to be nice to everyone and was now making a club for Methamphetamine users.

"So, you made this club for Methamphetamine junkies, all by yourself?" I asked him, almost knowing the answer was "Yes, I did, all by myself, to give back to the community of South Park! All for the rainbows and sparkles of the world!" Well, maybe the answer I was thinking he would say wasn't like that.

"Nope, Officer Barbardy made it, I just joined and I've been promoted to 'Head of Staffing' and I'm also 'Head of Camp Activities'. So I'm part leader, because Officer Barbardy gave me half of the company." Cartman said, sounding very proud of himself.

"Wait. How is this a company? Isn't, like a charity?" I asked. OK, I'll admit it! I was very, VERY confused. How could a place called "United Association for Methamphetamine Junkies" make money? Was it like a rehab place, that costs a hundred dollars a day to go in, or would it sell parts of it run off of donations to pay it's staff? I had no clue!

"It's a rehab, Kenny. We also accept donations to keep it all running." he said. Damn, I was spot on!

So we got to Cartman's house and went to the backyard. I saw 3 regular sized sheds, and a long shed that stretched across the back of the yard. "Come on, Kenny, let's take the grand tour." Cartman said. We walked through the large shed. "Here's where the junkies sleep. This is room A; this is room B and this room, oh Kenny, this is where YOU sleep."

"Wha-" before I could finish the sentence, Cartman shoved me into the room we were looking into. I assumed it was room C. Some one then kicked me sharply in the chest; I fell down and tried to get back up, but then the figure punched me in the face. "Cartman! What is this place?"

"It's the U.A.M.J. You thought it was 'United Association for Methamphetamine Junkies' but it's really 'United Association for Murdering Jews! And since you associate with a Jew, you are being thrown in here! Hah, Hah Hah! Hail!" Cartman said, laughing his mutherfucking ass off. God, I hated him. Right that moment, I didn't give a shit if I died, I wanted to rip his motherfucking head off.

"You know if you execute me, I'll wake up at the node! I'll be out of this shit hole! God damn it, Cartman!" I yelled at him. If he killed me, I would wake up at the node. Every time I die, I wake up a specific place. I can change the place at will, but if I die, I'll wake up there.

"What about Officer Barbardy? What happened to him?" I asked, calming down a little. Just a little... "He and I had the idea for the camp. We both love one thing and that's killing Jew rats like you!" Cartman yelled. NOW was the time I should of tried to kill him. I would die, but it would scare him enough to send his guards on me. A place like this had to have guards. But I was too angry to do anything.

"But I'm not Jewish! I'm Roman Catholic! You can't just persecute me for knowing a Jew! You knew him! You hung out with him, Stan and me every Friday and Monday! God damn it, Cartman, persecute yourself, you shit bag!"I was VERY angry. The police officers were corrupt, I was trapped in a Jewish death camp and I had no where to run. I should of killed him.

"I'm the co-leader, and I gave myself a pardon from my transgressions. I suggest you renounce your demons at the church. It's the only way to escape." Cartman said.

"I'll never sell out my friend, Cartman. I won't go to the church. The only way you can make me do it is by torturing me and you know it takes a lot for me to feel pain. Cartman, you can't torture me for long enough. You'll have to kill me, or I'll kill myself. I'll find a way. I'll find a way, Cartman. And when I do, I'll put together a resistance and have you killed! Cartman, you know it takes a lot, so try your best. Hit me with your best shot. I'm right here." I said to him, pure passion in my eyes. Out of the corner of my eye I saw another figure, this one sitting on a bed.

"Let him go, Cartman. Just let him sleep here, tonight. Let him cool down and then maybe he'll listen to you. Just maybe." the figure said. It had a familiar tone and I knew exactly who it was. It was my friend, Stanley Marsh.

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"Thanks, Stan" I said after about an hour sitting in the room. Cartman had went away and me and Stan were alone. "No problem, Kenny. We'll get a way out of this. I promise." Stan was sitting with a guitar. He was playing... I think it was "Horse With no Name" by America. I could kinda pick out the tune, but it would be better if Stan would sing the words.

"Where's Kyle?" I asked, suddenly realizing that this was a Jewish death camp. Since Kyle was Jewish, he had to be put in here some where.

"Room A. That's where most of the Jews are. Room B is for Christians with Jewish parents. This room is for people who associate with Jews. Some Jews escaped out of South Park when they heard Jews were being round up. So they escaped to North Park, while others went to Denver. So basically, they rounded up more then half of the Jews. Including Kyle and his family. So they are in Room A, they have the worst living conditions. We have beds, they have the stone floor. We get half of a meal, they barely get a crumb. So we have it easy." Stan said, playing his guitar softly.

Stan had an acoustic guitar, that was a Penco. Penco is a company in Pennsylvania, hence the name, Penco. His grandfather gave him the guitar and he always loved it. It had a little dent in the upper right hand corner, and he was so mad when he found out that his big sister did it when she was mad. So she got him an electric guitar to replace it, but Stan always had that old Penco. The strings were always so strong and slick...

I then had an idea.

"Stan, can you break one of those strings, please?" I asked him.

"What? Why?" He asked. I knew they would never give him another string, but this could save his life. I told him my plan and he then broke the top string, the strongest one. Well, he didn't break the string, he just undid it so I had about 3 feet of guitar string.

I looked up at the ceiling and, sure enough, I saw rafters. I got on top of Stan's bed, got on my tip toes and threw the string around the closest rafter. I then made a double noose (a noose on both sides) and put my head through the one close to me. I then jumped off the bed hard and broke my neck. I had died.

I can remember Stan saying, "You killed Kenny! You bastards!"

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I woke up at Token's house. I ran in and found Token, Craig, Tweek and Clyde all playing a video game.

"Oh my God, I have never been so happy to see you guys in my entire life! Cartman! He's killing Jews! And that means Kyle! We got to save him and all the Jews! You guys got to help me!" I was basically crying right then. I thought they wouldn't help me and I would have to take on Cartman and his band of Jew killers by myself.

"OK," Token started, "We're gonna need some guns, some ponchos, 5 walkie-talkies, a truck, and a way to get Cartman's body into Stark's Pond by midnight."

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We all had our shirts off. The cool air was kissing at the nervous sweat that was coming off of us. I put on the poncho and a Tennessee Titans cap, which I had on backwards. Everyone had a hat on. Clyde and Tweek had Red Sox and Pirates hats on, respectively. Craig wore an old cowboy hat and Token wore a bandanna. 3...2...1... 11:30! We were off on our mission!

We sent Craig to dig a little hole under the gate. The spotlight went right past him without a look back. _Stupid guards_, I thought. When then all crawled under we got into position. Token and Clyde were at one entrance to the main long building where the prisoners were. Tweek, Craig and I were at the other entrance.

I talked into the walkie-talkie "3...2...1... NOW!" We busted open the doors at the same time and we knew the guards would be after us after the ruckus we made. But I didn't know guards would be _inside _the shed. There was two guards inside the long house. Token shot one one of them, but the other shot Tweek. Tweek laid there on the ground. Still. Craig checked his breathing. There was none. I shot the last guard and we went into the long house.

We got all the prisoners out of their rooms and I found Kyle. He was dirty, and there was his hair, cut bald. I noticed the women's hair was bald too. We went to our little hole we came in through, and got every one of the prisoners out of the camp.

"Hey? What the fuck do you guys think you're doing!" called a familiar voice. Cartman. I turned around quickly and shot him right in... the leg? Why was my aim off? I guess I was nervous. We then grabbed Cartman's bawling body and slipped him through the hole. Thank God he got skinnier over the past few years.

After we got all the prisoners away from the camp, we took Cartman to Denver, now knowing we couldn't just dump the body. The Denver Police Department arrested Cartman and was hunting down other suspects. They called us brave boys for rescuing all those people and they pardoned us for killing those two guards and assaulting Cartman.

That's how I got here. In this room. With a shrink. All because I thought about money and a shower.

**A/N: I think I did a very good job with this one. I hope you guys like it!**


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